Dancing
by SisterDear
Summary: Now a series of loosely related ficlets about Ironhide's life as the Lennox family truck. 2007 movieverse.
1. Dancing

Wrote this several days ago and completely forgot to post it here.

I do not own Transformers. Go figure.

OoOoO

It was a typical weekend morning in the Lennox household. All the members were up, had eaten, and were now getting ready for the day. Music drifted through the windows at the front of the house to the black Topkick sitting outside, not quite drowning out the low rumble of a washing machine.

The music grew suddenly louder as the front door opened and Will Lennox emerged, his daughter in his arms. Will was muttering under his breath in time with the beat-_"a bum bump ba, a one two three." _Two paces from the front step he began to skip and turn, feet moving in a pattern far more complicated than the simple act of walking would have required. He set off down the drive, kicking up dust, daughter giggling in his arms. They paused long enough for Will to check the mailbox and came spinning back.

It was not the first time Ironhide had seen this short ritual performed. He could find no reason for it—would it not be more expedient to simply walk?—but if there was one thing he had learned about this planets foremost inhabitants, it was that human reasoning was not always based on sense.

"Morning, Hide," Will said as he passed, and Ironhide could contain himself no longer.

"What are you doing?"

Will paused just before the still-open front door. He turned, scanning the drive for any onlookers—a completely unnecessary gesture, as Ironhide had already done so.

"Dancing with my daughter."

_Dancing, _Ironhide found as he scanned the internet, was a very broad term. The closest thing he could find that was even remotely similar to what Will was doing seemed to be something reserved for mating rituals and social events, but neither made any sense in this case. "Do not partnered dances require that both parties be able to participate?"

"Annabelle's participating. See?" Will did a quick turn in place. Annabelle's giggling redoubled. Ironhide shifted on his wheels, the closest he could come in his current form to a perturbed shrug. Captain Lennox usually made more sense than this; it was what made this particular human more tolerable than the rest.

Annabelle patted at Will's chin, pulling on his lower lip. Will tucked the two envelopes he'd retrieved from the mailbox under his armpit and lifted her hand away in a show of what Ironhide considered to be extreme patience, kissing her tiny little palm and making ridiculous noises at her.

"It makes her happy," Will added, as if that were reason enough.

Ironhide rumbled but said nothing. Apparently not even Will was immune to the inherent lack of sense all humans seemed to display when dealing with their offspring.


	2. New

The plunnies wouldn't leave me alone, so this is now a series of loosely related ficlets (put up in no particular order) about Ironhide and the Lennox family. Annabelle's age will be the closest thing this story is likely to get in terms of a specific order of events.

New (Annabelle age 16)

OoOoO

"Oh, come on!"

Ironhide shook his head, stubbornly folding his arms. "I like this form."

Annabelle planted her hands on her hips, frowning up at him with an expression somewhere between a pout and a glare.

Ironhide felt himself beginning to grow irritated. Fond as he was of Annabelle- more so, perhaps, than he was willing to admit- she still managed to baffle him on a frequent basis. He'd only just started to become truly comfortable in his current form, and now she wanted him to change it?

"It's only been fifteen years."

"That's a long time for an earth car!"

"But I am not an earth car. This alt form is still perfectly functional, and will be for some time."

"Yes, but they don't know that!" Annabelle protested with a broad sweep of her arm to indicate the world at large.

Ironhide's head went up and back like an obstinate horse. Annabelle threw up her hands, tugged sharply at the end of her braid, and took off across the old warehouse the Autobots used when they needed to meet with each other in town, also a convenient location for Mikaela's 'personal projects'.The mechanicwas currently hard at work on one of said projects, elbow deep in the front end of a vehicle he didn't recognize.

"Mikaela!" Annabelle wailed. "Help me convince Ironhide he needs a new alt form."

The woman lifted her head, giving it a brief shake to move the hair that had fallen across her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, a bit of body language that Ironhide had come to understand indicated surprise or disbelief.

"Why would I have any say in the matter?"

"You're the mechanic. There's got to be something you can say."

Ironhide let a vocal snort indicate his feelings towards that statement.

Mikaela frowned, pulling her hands back and wiping them on the grease-stained scrap of cloth tucked into her back pocket.

"Well, the Topkick could get a little squirrelly on highways—"

"Hah!"

"But I've never noticed Ironhide having that problem."

"I fixed that flaw when I scanned the form."

"I wondered." Mikaela sounded approving. Annabelle did not want anything approving to be said of Ironhide's currently embarrassingly out-of-style altmode.

"Bumblebee got a new alt form. And so did Ratchet!"

"Bumblebee likes being unpredictable. Ratchet's form has to be kept up with earth's own medical vehicles if he does not want to draw undue attention."

"And a fifteen year old Topkick doesn't draw attention?"

This particular clicking of inner parts meant he was growing truly irritated. "Different kind of attention," he stated gruffly, in the same 'you should know this already' tone her father used on occasion.

Mikaela smiled, patting Annabelle on the shoulder consolingly. "In another ten years it'll go from being old to retro, and ten years after that it'll be a classic."

"But until then it's just ugly!" Annabelle seemed to realize what she'd said a moment too late. Her mouth snapped shut. "Sorry, Hide," she muttered.

"Hmph." Ugly was far from the worst thing he'd been called. He'd let her worry about it a little longer, though. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his current form, and he'd been getting tired of hearing her go on about it.

Mikaela was still smiling. "If you ever do want a new one, though, I'd be happy to help you find something." Annabelle's face lit up. Ironhide's cannons nearly whirled to life out of sheer frustration.


End file.
